


let me still be able to look in those eyes

by kivancalcite



Category: The Thing (1982)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Betrayal, Blood, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Loss of Trust, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Paranoia, Physical Abuse, Poison, Poisoning, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sick Character, Sleep, Strangulation, Trust Issues, boyyyy this isn't going to be pleasant, break the tough guy, glass breaking, i wrote this last year and i want to bring it back, mac already has problems trusting and guess what unfortunately happens, these two are perfect for each other but of course something happens to that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kivancalcite/pseuds/kivancalcite
Summary: In the claustrophobic, icy confinements of Outpost 31, an alien...thing is discovered. Meanwhile after a strange heated argument in the base, Mac, an already anti-social and bad tempered person with little trust for others, storms up to his shack whilst he lets Windows follow him up there. These two seem to find comfort and affection in each other even if they don't properly say it out loud. Unfortunately, whatever is up with the thing they brought in, a world they routinely built together in such a harsh environment is unknowingly about to fall apart.
Relationships: R. J. MacReady/Windows
Kudos: 3





	1. the only exception

He couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

Mac wouldn’t stand there and listen to accusations in his direction. He’d didn’t think he’d done anything to deserve the level of hostility he got. He didn’t understand why it was happening, after all this time, a whole argument, erupted out of nowhere.

Seems almost ever since they brought the alien… _thing_ …back from the abandoned Norwegian camp, everyone was acting so tetchy and on edge.

As he stormed out of the rec room and into the icy winds of the Antarctic, he heard a familiar anxious voice behind him.

“Mac?”

“Yeah?” he replied with an irritable voice on instinct, mentally kicking himself as he turned round to see Windows, “I mean, what is it?”

“Where are you going?”

“Shack. I need a drink. If I stay in here any longer I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”

He smiled as softly as he could at him. Seemed only fair that Windows joined him, following him through the biting air up to his shack. Sure, he guessed he wanted to be alone and drink and calm down, that’s what he usually did. But something spoke otherwise. Or rather, someone.

When they’d both stepped in from the cold into his shack and shut the door, he appeared even more distracted, probably not now because of the whiskey. Probably because of the alien thing, probably because of the sudden hostility of his crew, probably because…because…

“Mac?”

There was his voice again. Slight undertone of anxiety and frustration. It was sweet. Normally a person wouldn’t be able to be someone of reason and calm around him. God forbid he showed vulnerability around anyone. But his voice and presence could be soft and distracting, and he let it happen. And he was okay with it.

He slowly turned a bit and blinked, realised he was frowning. He felt a hand on his shoulder and almost softened, breathing out heavily and meeting Windows’ empathetic gaze. He would’ve had that drink now, he guessed, if he wasn’t transfixed by the idea that he was alone with him, someone who kept him sane, after the roiling emotions in the rec room just earlier.

There was a moment or two of unbearable tension as he turned around properly before everything fell together and he leant forward, his lips meeting Windows’, who almost naturally reciprocated after a moment of surprise and closed his eyes, melting into this sweet sensation of emotions running high and the closeness of the man in front of him.

Seemed almost like the both of them appeared to forget any of their surroundings or the events beforehand, barely unable to take a breather and their hands off of each other. This was already vulnerability in of itself, but the quiet, loving desperation seemed to prove even more of a point of just how undeniably comfortable they were around each other, that this was the instinct for two such different people when they walked into such a place that Mac always thought he’d prefer being alone in.


	2. did you poison the ground we walked on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a lot worse in this chapter as any hope of it being alright gets torn away, and something shatters during these events that isn't just the glass that slips out of Mac's hand and onto the floor.

Once they were tangled together, everything else seemed to fall away. It was just each other, half undressed before they even reached the bed whilst softly moaning and laughing into each other’s mouths. Of course it was slow, relishing the moments together away from the hassle of it all, but it was routine, something they were used to. 

They weren’t even aware of the time when they finally disentangled, having climbed underneath the sheets, sweating and breathing heavily and delirious. Nonetheless, they still remained close to each other, still skin on skin whilst the floors were, as usual, messily decorated with their clothes they had thrown aside in the heat of it. Windows had his head resting on his boyfriend’s chest, silently listening and feeling the other man’s breathing and heartbeat with an arm draped lazily across it.

Mac himself put an arm gently around Windows, kissing the other man’s head long and tenderly and hearing a sleepy, contented hum from him. He laughed affectionately. This was how it was, the usual, when they were alone, they shared such a passion that went the same way and it was something they never got tired of. It was funny to believe that Mac could be able to sleep with someone here, let alone stand them. Since it was with each other, it felt like it made sense that this was something they never tired of.

They lay in peaceful silence together, because for one thing, Mac wasn’t really in the mood to go back out there when he was lying here trying to make this moment with his boyfriend last longer, but they also felt no reason to go out. It was warm here, sharing this closeness, and there felt no need to get dressed and set out again into the freezing Antarctic weather. There was no point, nothing right now, except for each other.

By the time Mac had gotten up to get at least some form of clothes back on, Windows had fallen asleep and he nudged him gently off of him so he was lying on his own pillow. He could hear his soft breathing as he pulled over the covers on his side and turned, putting his legs round and standing up. He went around, putting his clothes on as he found them. Even his jacket because, why not? It was a small comfort in a place like this.

Usually Windows was someone he always remained so close with, that he found himself not drinking as much around him. Though he’d come up here for a drink, Windows had followed him and he’d let him. They’d become boyfriend, he guessed, for a reason, but addiction was always a consistent thing and he’d wandered over to pour himself a drink. Especially due to their…regular activity in bed it usually made him crave one.

He heard a shuffling around in bed and turned around with the glass of whiskey in his hand. Windows had turned over, sleepily pulling back the cover on his own side of the bed to get up and get dressed. He smiled warmly, taking a sip from his glass, simply dwelling in the moment currently where he was now with him.

He grimaced though, as he swallowed it down. Sure, whiskey was strong but he was used to this. But this _really_ burnt his throat on the way down, and he couldn’t help but get his usual paranoid self as he felt a sick feeling grow at the pit of his stomach. He put the glass down on the nearest table, hands shaking as he leant a little too much on it and they slipped, knocking the glass off of it with a loud crash.

Windows spun around at the sound of the glass, heart thudding at the near motionless figure of his boyfriend slightly bent over. “Mac??” he asked, panicked, now having dressed and fast paced it over towards him. He saw the glass pieces amongst the spilt whiskey on the floor and his eyes went wide, a lump forming in his throat.

What felt like a dry cough soon became more concerning when Mac put his hand over his mouth, as the different taste in his mouth and the red stain on his palm indicated. He looked up at Windows, but not in the ‘what’s happening to me?’ but in the more ‘why did you do that?’ way. He wasn’t so much angry but pleading, feeling an ache of betrayal amongst the pain in his throat and now in his gut, but before he could move away, his legs gave out and he hit the floor, shuffling backwards, eyes bulging from both panic and pain.

Windows was heartbroken and would’ve leapt down to help him but the other man was clearly not having it. He was the only one he trusted to be here with him, this couldn’t be anyone else’s doing. This hadn’t happened until they’d discovered a new…thing, but it had to be a coincidence. Neither of them wanted to believe it, although one knew more of the reality. 

And it hurt even more because Windows didn’t exactly have a window of opportunity…unless he counted the moment they kissed as they walked in through the door. Too busy enjoying that moment with him before they climbed on top of the bed together. Mac thought he was a usually wary person, but he was a tired one too, and also very different with Windows, and clearly the other man’s hands were busy doing something else in those few seconds he had.

Windows didn’t want to say anything. Nothing he could say would make sense. He regretted it the moment he did it, but he felt like he had no other choice. But how do you explain it at all, let alone to someone like Mac?


	3. the last time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Windows is clearly feeling terrible for what he did to Mac, and the appearance of two of the alien things...or more, crew members having been assimilated...proves enough for the radio operator to protest outright, albeit at the cost of his own health.

Windows didn’t know why he did this. Most likely out of fear, but still? This seemed bizarre. As much as he was scared, as much as he was smaller than Mac, there was an almost sacrificial streak in him that maybe he could’ve been the one to drink it, he could’ve faced the wrath instead. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel even worse at how disappointed Mac looked. It just _hurt_.

He was still hovering over Mac’s form that leant heavily towards the floor, blood more prominent on the floor besides his face, before he stood up cautiously as the door to the shack opened. Windows’ didn’t know whether he was shaking more out of fear or anger, but there was a lot of emotion running through his veins as two of the things, as grim versions of two of the crew members strolled in and turned to them, mournful yet clearly about to boil over.

“Well, SOMEBODY finally did it,” one of them bitterly remarked, laughing, “we had a feeling it’d take you a while to do this. You better not be like this next time.”

Windows knew who they were, but he didn’t bother giving either of them a name. He couldn’t be asked anymore, his own form of poison running through his veins. “There won’t _be_ a next time.”

It was quiet and spoke with venom, and they both squinted at him. His heart was beating, thudding against his chest but he couldn’t do this. Even as he started shaking and one of them made a threatening advance towards him. “What did you _say?_ ”

“I said,” Windows said, still shaking but a bit louder and firmer this time, teeth gritted, “there won’t _be_ a next time. Why don’t you go ahead and do your own dirty work? I think I’ve done _enough._ ”

Their eyes bored into Windows’, and he dreaded what was about to happen next. He had an idea of what they were going to do, but at least he had it in his mind of how he really felt and this moment where he could properly voice it. Of course, it didn’t help how the thing made a twitch of a smirk, a twisted expression that was once part of a crew member’s face.

It was still a surprise to have his shirt collar grabbed before he was violently thrown backwards, a cry tearing from his throat as his head hit the wall and his vision went double. He just about registered a sudden hand reaching out to pin him against the wall and constricting his throat, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.

He heard a vague yell from Mac, who could barely talk from the pain and spitting blood, before he was cut off as Windows could see a violent kick in his direction. Of course, despite the strangulation, this only made him angrier, but his attempt to lash out led to him being thrown to the floor, a foot crushing his ribs.

“If this is how it is then…” it said, monotone and yet sickeningly contemptuous, “…maybe we’ll make you join your _boyfriend_ in this.”

Windows was surprised at how he sounded, perhaps thinking he didn’t have much to lose in this as he bitterly spat out his next words despite the pressure on his chest. “Fine, _fine_ , go ahead,” he said, grinning, “Not like I wanted to help you _anyway._ ”

The contemptuous look from the thing didn’t fade as the pressure increases, and he bit back a cry because he felt something _break_. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a hand reach towards before an aggressive, cracked tone made itself known. Windows was still surprised that Mac would have the energy within him to speak, but it still remained comforting, regardless of the circumstances.

“You bastards won’t involve him anymore in this—” he spat, choking on blood and a sudden boot crushing his hand. To hear him of all people in this kind of pain was demonstrably agonising, considering how much of a problem he didn’t have in fighting and leading. Now he was just bleeding and in pain, and Windows knew he had a part in it.


End file.
